


A Hard Day’s Night

by guitarplayingastrophysicist



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Angry Sex, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Hair-pulling, Rough Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-10 22:58:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17435081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guitarplayingastrophysicist/pseuds/guitarplayingastrophysicist
Summary: You and Brian have been married for a year and are sharing a small, drafty flat in London while Queen records another album. After a long day in the studio, your husband comes home fuming with anger...so naturally you suggest a creative way for him to exercise his frustrations.





	A Hard Day’s Night

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Queen fic on AO3, so please be kind, and any comments or feedback would be greatly appreciated! If you would like to read more of my work, you can check out my tumblr @guitarplayingastrophysicist.

You and Brian had been married for a year, living in a tiny flat in London while Queen recorded another album that you hoped would make enough money for the two of you to get an actual house. Your current flat was dusty and old, the kitchen was falling apart, and the window in the bedroom was so drafty that you and Brian had taken to sleeping under a pile of blankets just to keep warm at night.

Despite it being less than ideal, you loved your little flat. Yes, it was tiny and cold and needed all kinds of repairs, but Brian had worked hard in order to purchase it for the two of you, and one of the things you loved most about your husband was how tirelessly he worked to provide for you. So, in an effort to fix up the house while Brian was away at the studio all day, you had taken to scrubbing off the kitchen counters, sweeping the floors, and trying to get the persistent layer of dust off all the wood surfaces. You were just finishing up scrubbing at a patch on the wood floor of the kitchen when you heard the front door open. You sat up from your hard work, happy to finally have Brian home after a long day away, but when you heard the door slam shut (unusual for your husband), you tossed aside the dirty rag you had been cleaning with and went to go see what the problem was. 

Wiping your forehead, you went out into the tiny living room and saw Brian leaning against the wall by the front door, face in his hands. Unfortunately, you didn’t need to see his expression to know from his body language that he was clearly fuming. 

“Brian, what’s the matt—“ you began.

But before you could get the rest of the words out he was on you, taking you into his arms, backing you up against the wall, and kissing you roughly. One of his hands wound around your back, pulling you tighter to him, and his other hand ran over your ass, feeling it up. He leaned in, deepening the kiss, letting his tongue enter into your mouth, and while you were still trying to process what was happening, the hand previously on your ass snaked its way between your thighs and kneaded you roughly through the fabric of your dress. You let out a yelp of surprise and Brian pulled away, retreating a couple paces away from you and breathing heavily. 

“Well,” you said, wiping your lips in surprise. “That certainly doesn’t happen everyday.” 

“I know, Y/N, I’m sorry—“ Brian began, then falters. “I just—today was a rough day at the studio.” He looked at the ground and drug a hand worriedly through his hair.

You nodded, seeing he was obviously distressed, and walked forward to take the hand he had tangled in his hair. His eyes, previously focused on the ground, darted up nervously to meet yours and he bit his lip. You raised a hand to touch his face gently, and he looked once again at the floor, like a scorned child.

“Brian?” you asked gently, and he looked up slowly. “Do you wanna talk about it?” 

“God no,” he shook his head vehemently. “I just wanna bloody forget today.” 

You nodded, not pushing him, and watched as his eyes flitted between the floor and your face, specifically your lips. Brian shifted nervously on his feet, looking back down, and suddenly you began to understand. 

“Brian...” you asked softly. “Can I...help you forget?” 

His eyes jumped up from the floor to meet yours, clearly surprised.

“You’d um—you’d be okay with that?” he asked. “I just, couldn’t hold it in a second ago, I didn’t mean—“ he blurted out in a rush.

“Shh. I know. I just want you to get back to being yourself,” you said gently. “And whatever it is you need to do for that to happen, I’m with you.” 

“You’d do that for me?” Brian asked incredulously. 

“I’d do anything for you.” you said, giving him a soft smile and touching the side of his face tenderly. “Plus,” you added, smirking slightly, “I kind of liked you being a little rough with me.” 

A smile twitched at the edge of Brian’s mouth, and his breath hitched as you ran your hand down from his face to play with the open part of his button up shirt, fingers brushing lightly over the bare part of his chest not covered by his shirt. You raised your eyes to his again, studying him through your eyelashes, and watched as his once clear irises flooded with darkness. His breath was hot on your face as he exhaled through his teeth, your close proximity clearly starting to affect him, and he took your face carefully in his hands. 

“So you think that was rough?” he teased softly, smirking. “Baby...you don’t know rough.” 

Then his lips locked around yours and he was kissing you passionately, hands tangled in each other’s hair, him fighting to lean into you and deepen the kisses. He backed you against the wall again, and in one swift motion, lifted you into his arms and held you tightly against him, one hand under your ass and the other around your waist. He broke the kiss on your lips and moved to your neck, kissing and sucking fervently at whatever bare skin his lips could reach, and you just managed to gasp that you were ready, for him to take you to the bedroom, the living room, anywhere. 

He obliged and carried you to the couch, laying you down quickly but gently, and immediately moving to pull off his jeans and shirt before following you down onto the couch, lying on top of you and kissing you furiously. His hips ground into your pelvis, and you could feel his hardness growing through the thin fabric of your dress and underwear. 

“My dress—“ you gasped between kisses. “Rip it off—“ 

Brian didn’t need telling twice. He grabbed the dress material tightly and pulled it apart, tearing a rough line down the center of the dress. He threw the dress aside, lay over you again, and began kissing and sucking his way down the flushed skin of your neck and chest. When he reached your bra, you leaned up for him to unhook it and he tossed it aside as well, taking your body in his arms and continuing to kiss his way down your form roughly, and it was all you could do not to buck your hips into his face when he reached the spot right above your underwear. 

“Take it off, Brian.” you gasped. “Please—“

Brian sat up, letting your legs straddle his torso, as he pulled your underwear down and off, exposing your dripping hole. He groaned and leaned back over you, eager to get his lips back on yours, and when his hips met yours you could feel his own swollen length straining against the fabric of his underwear. 

Quickly, you took one hand from out of his hair and reached down to palm the bulge roughly through his underwear, making him gasp against your lips and moan aloud. 

“Take them off.“ he whispered, breaking away from you and gasping for breath. “Take them off now, I need to be inside you.” 

You jerked the underwear down hard, freeing his swollen, hardened length, and gasped as Brian entered you without hesitation—a hard thrust once, twice—another snap of his hips and he was fully inside you, inserted to his limit, and cock perfectly hitting that spot he knew always made you come undone. Your hands clawed at his back as he thrust, hips bucking against his waist. 

“More Brian,“ you gasped, reveling at the sudden stretch his thick cock was causing your walls. “Harder.” 

Brian nodded quickly, and kept one hand around your waist as he thrust, while the other reached up to grab the arm of the couch. With a moan, he pulled back, extracting nearly all of his length out of you, before he gripped the armchair for leverage, and slammed roughly back in. You cried out, body jerking with his efforts, and bit down hard on his shoulder. One of your hands found his hair, grabbed a fistful, and pulled, making him nearly keen above you. The growing sensation in the pit of your stomach was rivaled only by what the space between your legs was feeling: your walls were clenched down around him and the rub of his cock against your folds as he thrust harder and harder was bringing you rapidly to your edge. You moaned and tried to pull your legs back farther to give him more access, fingernails digging deeply into his back. 

“Oh God, Brian—“ 

“Just a little more, baby—“

Brian’s eyes were squeezed shut with bliss, hips racking against your abdomen, trying to push himself as deep into you as he could. His hands gripped your waist, moans escaping out his mouth against your lips, and when he pulled himself nearly all the way out and gave one final rough, deep thrust back in, you saw stars. 

As you gasped with pleasure, you could feel Brian coming right after. At the sound of your moans, his pace quickened even more, nearly to a frenzy, breath coming in gasps, until he gave one last hard, impossibly deep thrust, and groaned against your lips as he spilled himself on your stomach. Panting, he rolled off and collapsed next to you, cock still dripping, and grabbed a tissue from the coffee table to clean you with. You lay back and watched him, grinning up at his flushed face as he tenderly wiped your stomach with the tissue, tossed it away, and returned to lay back down next to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. You smiled over at him and reached out to touch the curls plastered against his face with sweat. He grabbed your hand, kissing it gently, and rested his forehead against yours. 

“Feel better now?” you whispered softly, watching as a smile played on his lips at your question. 

“I’m far better than alright, love,” he smiled, and pulled you closer against him. “I’m perfect.” 

You sighed, letting your body lounge against his and shutting your eyes contently, until suddenly Brian chuckled softly. 

“What?” you asked, opening your eyes. “What is it?”

Brian was smirking.

“If this is what I can come home to after a rough day in the studio,” he whispered seductively, leaning forward to kiss you again. “Then let’s just say I hope recording his album is very, very difficult.”


End file.
